Elson Grammar School Literature, book 4Elson, William H. (William Harris)
General
Elson Grammar School Literature, book 4
Elson, William H. (William Harris)
Readers
"As I was once sailing," said he, "in a fine stout ship across the banks of
Newfoundland, one of those heavy fogs which prevail in those parts rendered
it impossible for us to see far ahead even in the daytime; but at night the
weather was so thick that we could not distinguish any object at twice the
length of the ship. I kept lights at the mast-head, and a constant watch
forward to look out for fishing smacks, which are accustomed to lie at
anchor on the banks. The wind was blowing a smacking breeze, and we were
going at a great fate through the water. Suddenly the watch gave the alarm
of 'a sail ahead!'--it was scarcely uttered before we were upon her. She
was a small schooner, at anchor, with her broadside towards us. The crew
were all asleep, and had neglected to hoist a light. We struck her just
amidships. The force, the size, the weight of our vessel bore her down
below the waves; we passed over her and were hurried on our course. As the
crashing wreck was sinking beneath us, I had a glimpse of two or three
half-naked wretches rushing from her cabin; they just started from their
beds to be swallowed shrieking by the waves. I heard their drowning cry
mingling with the wind. The blast that bore it to our ears swept us out of
all farther hearing. I shall never forget that cry! It was some time before
we could put the ship about, she was under such headway. We returned, as
nearly as we could guess, to the place where the smack had anchored. We
cruised about for several hours in the dense fog. We fired signal guns, and
listened if we might hear the halloo of any survivors: but all was
silent--we never saw or heard anything of them more."
I confess these stories, for a time, put an end to all my fine fancies. The
storm increased with the night. The sea was lashed into tremendous
confusion. There was a fearful, sullen sound of rushing waves, and broken
surges. Deep called unto deep. At times the black column of clouds overhead
seemed rent asunder by flashes of lightning which quivered along the
foaming billows, and made the succeeding darkness doubly terrible. The
thunders bellowed over the wild waste of waters, and were echoed and
prolonged by the mountain waves. As I saw the ship staggering and plunging
among these roaring caverns, it seemed miraculous that she regained her
balance, or preserved her buoyancy. Her yards would dip into the water: her
bow was almost buried beneath the waves. Sometimes an impending surge
appeared ready to overwhelm her, and nothing but a dexterous movement of
the helm preserved her from the shock.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account